


Fit 2

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, Alternate Universes, Angst, Drama, M/M, Other: See Story Notes, Series, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:43:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As they settle into their new relationship, Jim and Blair face new problems because of Blair's young age.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fit 2

## Fit 2

by Grey

Blair is 16 and Jim is 24. All sex is consensual.

This story is a sequel to: Fit 

* * *

Title: Fit 2  
Author: Grey  
Fandom: TS  
Pairing: J/B  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: New/Complete  
Archive: Yes to everyone except 852 Prospect Adult Archive Email: Grey853@aol.com  
Series/Sequel: Sequel to Fit  
Date: September 2000  


Disclaimer: Not mine. 

Summary: As they settle into their new relationship, Jim and Blair face several problems because of Blair's age. 

Notes: This is an AU with Jim as a 24-year-old private security guard and Blair as a 16-year-old college student. 

Warnings: This is underage fiction. If you don't like even make believe accounts of underage consensual sex, don't read it. 

Fit 2  
by Grey 

"I'd say another two weeks, minimum." Dr. Taylor finished the new dressing and backed away, peeling off his gloves and then washing his hands. 

"Two more weeks?" 

"That's what I said, Mr. Ellison. You can get dressed now." 

Jim frowned and slipped off the table to reach for his shirt. "It's already been two weeks since the hospital. I feel fine." 

"Well, you're improving, but if you start working too soon, you could have some serious problems. The tissue is still swollen and the wound not completely healed." He turned and faced Jim while he dried his hands. "Just be patient. You've done remarkably well considering a bullet tore straight through your body." 

Unhappy with the news, Jim fussed with the shirt buttons, frustrated at his own stiffness and sluggish body. "What about the antibiotics? Do I still need to take those?" 

"I'd like you to take another round, yes. There's redness and I don't want to take any chances. By the way, before you leave, I want to take more blood, so stop by the lab." 

"I just gave blood a few days ago." 

"Which is why I want more now. Your numbers aren't what I want to see yet." 

"My numbers?" 

"The red blood cell count is too low and the white cell count is too high. All the more reason to rest and give yourself more time to heal." 

Grumpily, Jim put on his coat. "All I've done for two weeks is rest." 

"Better than being buried, Mr. Ellison." The doctor wrote out a quick prescription and handed it to Jim. "Now, stop by the lab, get this filled, then go home and take a nap. Any questions?" 

"Is it too late for a second opinion?" 

Smiling, Taylor shook his head and opened the door of the small examining room as he talked over his shoulder. "Ask the nurse. She's got a list of names handy." 

"I'll bet." 

As soon as he was gone, Jim slipped the small paper into his pocket and took a deep breath. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to give any more blood, to have a single reminder of his latest fuck up. Outside the room, he headed for the lab and did what he had to do as quickly as possible. Needles didn't bother him, but being touched, being handled by strangers did. He hated to sit there and endure it, to have blood drawn. He always took himself away for awhile, withdrew to watch from a distance, to wall himself off until they finished. 

Back at the check out desk, he found Blair waiting, his young face worried. "Hey, man, what took so long?" 

"They needed blood." 

"Again?" 

"It's just a precaution." 

"For what?" 

"It's no big deal, Sandburg. I've got to stop by the drug store. Let's go." His words clipped the air and he noted the hurt expression. "I'm sorry. I just want to get out of here." 

"I understand." Blair opened the door and they walked side by side to the elevator. The younger man punched the button, avoiding Jim's eyes while he spoke. "You sure are surly when we come here." 

"I'm not surly." 

"You're surly, man. I mean, I get you don't like doctors, but you don't have to snap my head off, okay?" 

"I said I was sorry." 

"I know." The doors pinged and they got on alone. Riding down to the garage, Blair remained quiet and brooding. Later, when they reached the truck, he climbed into the driver's side and unlocked the passenger door. "You want to pick up something to eat while we get the prescription filled?" 

"Anything except Chinese." 

Blair's unexpected laugh pleased him. "I'm with you there, man. How about pizza?" 

"Bertino's is right around the corner from the drug store." 

"Cool." 

As he started the engine, Blair asked calmly. "So, how much longer do you have to stay off work?" 

"Two more weeks." 

"Sounds reasonable." 

"Sounds crazy, not that it matters." 

Puzzled, Blair turned in his seat to face him before he spoke. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Jim worried his lower lip with his thumb as he stared out the window. "It means I don't have a job to go back to." 

"What? I thought you and Tim were partners. How can he fire you because you got shot?" 

"He didn't. I told him to buy out my part of the business." 

"But why?" 

"It doesn't matter." 

The engine shut off and Jim met worried blue eyes as Blair lightly touched his shoulder. "Tell me what's going on, Jim." 

Swallowing hard, Jim steadied his nerve before he could find the words. "He thinks if people find out about us being together, we'll lose business. I told him I'd rather lose the business than lose you." 

"Really?" 

The stunning force of that open, trusting face amazed him. "Really." 

"You did that for me?" 

"For us." 

"Man, that's something." 

Jim took Blair's hand and held it to his chest, the air thinner and harder to manage. "I decided I couldn't lose you." 

The serious expression returned as Blair took a deep breath. "I love you, too, Jim." 

"I know." Jim squeezed the hand and smiled. "And don't worry. I've got some money put away, plus what I get for my half of the business. I'll find a job doing something." Nodding, Blair pulled away and started the engine again, his face drawn and distracted. "Okay, what is it?" 

"You and Tim were friends, friends enough to be partners." 

"Yeah, so?" 

"Yeah, so, I hate that he turned against you because of me." 

"He didn't turn against me, Chief. He's just being practical." 

"But it's my age again, right?" 

"It doesn't matter." 

"It does matter. I fucking hate being sixteen." He chewed his lower lip and pulled out of the parking place, keeping his attention focused on driving. 

"Don't worry about it. We'll figure something out." Jim placed a tentative hand on Blair's arm and noted the slightest shudder. "You okay?" 

"As long as I'm with you, yeah, man. I just get scared sometimes, that's all." 

"Scared?" 

"Yeah, man, scared. Scared that someone's going to come in and try to fuck this up." 

Jim nodded and sat back, his arms wrapped around his middle. "We just have to be careful, that's all." 

"Lay low and do the Blair sleeps alone on the futon charade?" 

"Something like that, yeah." 

"And if that doesn't work?" 

"We'll figure something out, Chief. Don't worry." Even as he said it, Jim warned back his own set of fears, the phantoms lurking beyond his vision, the dangers waiting in ambush because he dared love a boy like Sandburg. 

* * *

Sitting alone at the kitchen table, Jim studied the figures again. The budget ran tight, but he could do it. The insurance covered most of the medical costs and he still had some of his savings left over from the military discharge payoff. A lot depended on how much Tim wanted to give him for the buyout of the business. Putting the pencil down, Jim rubbed his hands over his face and shook his head. Plans changed all the time, so why did he feel so anxious? 

The knock at the door surprised him. Sniffing the air, he rose carefully and went to the door. "Hey, Davis." 

"How the fuck did you know it was me?" 

"Too much aftershave." 

"Must be part hound dog." 

"Must be." Jim motioned his partner to enter and headed back toward the kitchen. "Want some coffee?" 

"Beer would be better." 

"It's ten in the morning." 

"Your point?" 

"No point. Beer it is then." Fetching the drink, Jim handed it over and then refilled his mug as he watched his friend's nervous movements as he scanned the loft. "He's not here." 

"Who?" 

"Sandburg. He's at school." 

"So he's still living here?" 

"Yeah, he's still living here as long as he wants to." 

Davis twisted off the cap to the bottle and shook his head. "Fuck. I was hoping you'd come to your senses and thrown his ass out." 

"Not going to happen." 

"I figured, but a guy can dream, right?" He took a long drink and leaned back against the counter. "At least you look a hell of a lot better than you did at the hospital." 

"I am better. Thanks to Blair. He's been taking care of me." 

"You could've hired a nurse for that." 

Dismissing the chance to argue, Jim simply sipped his coffee and then asked, "What do you want, Tim?" 

Frowning, the other man shrugged and took another drink before he answered. "Good news or bad news?" 

"Good news." 

"I've got a buyer for your part of the business." 

"Bad news." 

"It's Jamison." 

"Fuck." 

"Yeah, that's what I said. The guy's a fucking control freak. He's offering good money though, three times what you put in. With you jumping ship, I'd be hard pressed to turn it down. He's even offering more cash to expand and take on more jobs." 

Jim walked out of the kitchen to the sofa and settled down, soaking in the full impact of the offer. "Then you should take it." 

Tim took the seat across from him and leaned forward, bottle in both hands. "We made a damn good team, Jim. I was the people man with the clients and you took care of the details. I'm not sure how I'm going to handle working with a guy like Jamison." 

"You'll do fine. I'm sure you can hire someone to handle the paperwork and accounting." 

"I know that, but you were good at judging the setups, hiring the right people. Besides, that's not what I'm talking about." 

"What are you talking about?" 

Rubbing his mouth, Tim avoided Jim's eyes. "Remember the night of Junior's party when you first met the kid?" 

"Yeah, so?" 

"Jamison watched the fucking tapes, all of them. I was there when he was going through them." 

Jim shifted on the couch, his attention on alert. "What are you trying to tell me?" 

"He picked up on the tapes that have you and the kid on the balcony. You two were there almost the whole fucking time." 

"All we did was talk." 

"I know, but the kid, well, he got Jamison's attention. He wanted to know his name and where to find him." 

"What for?" 

Taking a deep breath, Tim met his eyes. "He didn't say, but I've got my suspicions." 

"What?" 

"You're not going to like it." 

"Fucking spit it out, Davis." 

"You know how some old men get that hungry look when they see a pretty girl? Well, that's how Jamison looked only he was looking at the kid. He was sitting behind the desk, but I swear he had a hardon." 

"Shit." Jim stood up, his body surging with anger. "Son of a bitch." 

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Listen, I didn't tell him Sandburg's name or even the story behind that whole damn deal on the balcony, but he's got connections. He can find out. I just thought I'd warn you." 

"The guy's old enough to be Blair's father." 

"Jim, listen, you just need to be careful, that's all I'm saying." 

Swallowing back his own anger, Jim nodded. "Thanks. I will be." His eyes narrowed as he asked the next question. "Are you going to take the deal with Jamison?" 

"Probably. He's a good business man even if he is a pervert." 

Pervert. 

Jim shuddered at the word, knowing his friend probably felt the same way about him when he saw him with Blair. "I need a favor." 

"What's that?" 

"If you hear or see anything more about Jamison going after Blair, I need to know it. I can't protect him if I'm in the dark." 

"I understand that. Sure." 

"You won't have a problem even if he's your new partner?" 

Tim got up and stood beside Jim, his face serious. "He's got money, Jim, but he's not my partner, not like you. Fuck. I wish you'd change your mind about this. Tell the boy to go back to school and stay there until he's at least fucking old enough to keep you out of trouble." 

"I can't do that." 

"Why? Because you owe him for helping out?" 

Turning away, bracing his arm on the window, Jim shook his head. "Because I really love him." 

"Fuck. You're kidding?" 

"No, I'm not kidding. I can't explain it, but I do." 

Standing quietly for a few extra moments, Tim finally moved to the table and put the beer bottle down before retrieving his jacket. "I'll send you the papers later this week. You can sign them whenever you're ready." 

"I'm sorry, Tim." 

"I know. Look, Jim, I know you don't want to hear this, but maybe you should think about seeing someone about this." 

"Seeing someone about what?" 

"You're a good guy, but this thing about being with a kid, it's wrong. I just don't get how you could do that kind of shit. It could fuck up the rest of your life and the kid's, too. Maybe a shrink could help you figure it out." 

A punch to the gut would've hurt less, but he clenched his jaw, the words hard to break free. "Good luck with Jamison." 

Frowning, Tim shrugged at his dismissal and left, the slam of the door echoing in the quiet of the loft. Stepping to the table, Jim sat down again and picked up one of Blair's text books, running his fingers along the smooth, laminated surface. Lifting it to his nose, he took a deep breath, the scent of his young lover permeating his senses. No way could he explain his love to a man who'd never been drop-kicked in the balls by desire and obsession. 

* * *

Blair stuffed the last of his clothes and books into the duffel bag and took one last look around the dorm room. As he shouldered the pack, he turned to find Charlie standing there in the doorway, his face a tough mix of hurt and anger. "I thought you'd be in class, man." 

"Is that why you came in here sneaking around like some kind of fucking thief?" 

"It's my room, too, Charlie." 

"Is it? I haven't seen your ass for two weeks." 

The harsh tone pushed the words, made it hard not to attack back. Blair took a deep breath and leveled his voice. "I just picked up the rest of my things." 

"So you're staying with Ellison?" 

"Yeah." 

"Fuck." Charlie barged into the room, shaking his head and running his right hand over his blond hair. "I can't believe you're going to do this for real, man. I mean, a fling is one thing, but this is serious. What's that guy got over you?" 

Closing the door to avoid being overheard, Blair put his bag down and sat down on the end of the bed. "I don't want us to be enemies, Charlie. You're my friend." 

"You couldn't prove it by the shitty way you've been acting. You take off and don't call for two fucking weeks? What kind of friend is that?" 

Blair pushed back a wayward curl, his body tense, his gut knotted. "Jim's been sick. I had to be there. Then when he got better, well, I just got busy trying to catch up with all the work I missed. You're right, I should've called. I'm sorry." 

His friend's face softened, a small smile lighting up his handsome face. "I figured you were busy. I was just worried." 

"You could've called, man. The phone works both ways." 

Frowning again, he looked away. "I didn't want to take the chance of talking to your boyfriend." The word boyfriend caught as he spoke, the stress stretching the word between them. 

"I'm sorry you feel that way." 

"Me, too." Charlie studied the floor before he finally looked up. "You never answered my question." 

"What question?" 

"The one about what he's got on you. I don't understand why you're with him." 

"I told you before, I love him." 

"And I told you, you're crazy. Why can't you see that?" 

Taking a deep breath, fatigue suddenly invaded his bones. "You see what you want to see. You think I'm curious and think this is all just a phase, but it's not. Jim and I belong together." 

Derisively, Charlie snorted and stood up. "You sound like one of my sister's fucking romance novels. You belong together? What a load of bullshit. He's a fag, Blair. You shouldn't be hanging around with a fuck like that. It's going to cause nothing but trouble." 

Hostility boiled the air as Blair got up and picked up his bag. He stood by the door, his hands shaking, working hard to keep his voice low. "When you said all this shit before, I excused you because you were drunk. There's no excuse this time. I don't even know you anymore." 

"You never did, just like you don't know shit about Ellison." 

As he turned to leave, Charlie stepped closer and held the door shut. "Wait." 

"There's no point." 

"Has he fucked you yet?" 

Shocked, Blair met his eyes, the green irises nearly gone, swallowed up by the black pupils. "What?" 

"You heard me. Have you let him fuck you yet?" 

"Jesus. What the hell's wrong with you?" He pulled at the door, but Charlie's stronger body held it secure. "Move out of the way, man. This is stupid." 

"Just answer the fucking question." 

Stepping closer, his face next to Charlie's, Blair spoke clearly, the anger clipping the words. "What we do is none of your damn business." 

"You two fucked. God damnit, I knew it." A fist slammed into the wall. As Charlie pulled back for another punch, Blair's strong voice stopped him. 

"No, we didn't, but that's got nothing to do with you. Now, move out of the way or do you want to hit me?" 

Defiance only lasted a few more seconds before Charlie's body relaxed, his face no longer enraged, but sad. "I'd never hit you, Blair." 

"No, you'd rather fuck me." Flushed, Charlie stepped away from the door and refused to look up. Blair pushed harder. "Tell me I'm wrong." 

"Just leave. It's over." 

"You're screwed up, Charlie. You need to figure out what you want." 

"What I want, you're giving Ellison. You happy now? Just get the fuck out." Confession offered up the words, but without tenderness of remorse, only hardcore jealousy and heartache. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Leave. Go spread your legs like a good little whore. I could give a fuck." 

Stunned by the bitter force of the dismissal, Blair's lungs grabbed for air as he turned the knob and left his friend slumped and cursing his existence. 

* * *

Jim folded the paper and put it on the coffee table. Blair sat across from the couch, his legs tucked up under him as he stared out the window, an open book on his lap. "You want to tell me what's bugging you?" 

Startled, Blair's head turned, the dark circles around his eyes shading the deep blue. "Nothing's bugging me. I'm just tired." 

"Did something happen at school today?" 

"I said I'm fine, Jim. Leave it alone." Blair took a deep breath and turned the page, pushing his glasses up as he worked to focus on the reading. 

"Okay." 

Jim stood up, carried the paper to the kitchen and tossed it away. He poured himself a glass of water and then leaned against the counter, waiting, trying to figure how long he needed to hold off before trying again. After a few moments, Blair finally spoke, his voice low and solemn as he took off his reading glasses. "I had another fight with Charlie." 

"About?" 

"Same thing as always. He wasn't drunk this time, but it was still ugly." 

"Yeah, unrequited love can turn nasty." 

"It's not love, Jim. Charlie doesn't love me. He doesn't know what the fuck he wants." 

Jim put the glass down and wandered back into the living room to sit on the sofa, his movements less painful than before. "He wants you and he knows he can't have you." He paused before he asked the question. "Did he threaten you?" 

Blair looked up, puzzled. "Threaten me? You mean, like did he threaten to hit me?" 

"That or threaten to turn us in?" 

Shaking his head, Blair closed the book and dropped it to the floor. "He was pissed, but he wouldn't do that." 

"You sure?" 

"Even if he did, so what? We've got our game plan, right?" 

"Right. So why didn't you want to tell me about what happened?" 

Avoiding Jim's gaze, Blair crossed his arms around his middle. "Habit." 

"Habit?" 

"Yeah, I'm just used to taking care of myself. Charlie's my problem." 

"You're wrong. He's our problem." Jim shifted into the corner of the sofa and patted the cushion beside him. "Get over here." 

"What?" 

"You heard me." 

Shyly, Blair got up and settled in beside him, his body warm as he relaxed. "Feels good." 

Squeezing slightly, Jim kissed the top of his head and kept his voice low. "Your problems are my problems, Chief, and vice versa. Got that?" 

"Yeah." 

"Promise." 

"Promise what?" 

"Promise that you're not just saying that. You've got to let me know what's going on with you." 

Blair sighed and nodded, his head rubbing against Jim's chest, the movement a comfort. "I need the same promise though. I need to know if something's bothering you, too, man." 

"What makes you think I don't already tell you?" 

"I don't know. Just a feeling." 

"Just a feeling, huh?" 

"Yeah." 

Swallowing hard, Jim rested his chin on Blair's head and spoke quietly. "I'm going to try my best, Chief. It's not easy for me to do that." 

"I know. I kind of figured." Lifting his head, Blair edged up and kissed him briefly. "Just try, that's all I'm asking, and I'll do the same." He nuzzled back in, careful not to hug too hard. 

Pausing, Jim closed his eyes a few moments before he finally spoke. "Guess I should start by telling you about Tim's offer." 

"Offer? What offer?" 

Petting back the thick, curly hair as he spoke, Jim pushed away the memory of the other words beyond business. "He's got a buyer. I should be signing the papers later this week." 

"That must make you sad, huh?" 

"Sad?" 

"Yeah, he was your partner. Now, he's not." 

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, we worked well together and he didn't make a big deal about me being gay." 

Blair pulled away and sat back, his eyes meeting Jim's. "Have you had a lot of problems with that?" 

"What?" 

"People making a big deal about you being gay?" 

Looking away, Jim clenched his jaw and stood up, walking to the window with the right arm held close to his body. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he hated thinking about all the times when the disappointment bled over into anger, when the people he cared about disowned and betrayed him, made him ashamed of his life. The shame hammered his choices and made him tougher, but the pain still layered almost every part of his memory. "I try not to make a big show of it, so most people don't know unless I tell them or they see me with somebody." 

"Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine. I just don't like talking about this." 

"This?" 

"This being gay thing." 

Blair shifted on the sofa, his face suddenly more grim. "I guess it doesn't get easier." 

"No, it doesn't. Some people handle it okay, others cut you out of their lives completely." 

Hesitation slowed the question. "Is that why you don't see your family?" 

"Partly." Jim turned back to face Blair, his arms wrapped around his chest as he calmed his words before speaking. "I never told my father, but it wouldn't have mattered." 

"I don't understand." 

"My dad, well, nothing I ever did was good enough. Being gay would've been one more disappointment. Leaving saved us both from having to deal with one more flaw in my character." 

"Flaw? You think you're flawed because you're gay?" 

"I don't, but others do." Jim stood straighter and settled into the chair across from Blair. Sitting slightly forward, he ignored his complaining muscles. "Where's this coming from, Chief? You having second thoughts about this?" 

"No, nothing like that." Blair pushed his hair back, but didn't meet Jim's stare. "I'm just new to all this, that's all. It still feels a little weird. Charlie didn't help much." 

"Charlie? What'd he say?" 

"It's not just what he said, but how he acted. I mean, it's pretty obvious he's gay even though he denies it, but he hates you and he hates me being with you. It's just all confusing." 

Nodding, Jim sat back, wishing he could knock Charlie Withers into the next county. "It doesn't matter what he thinks. Forget about him." 

"I'm trying, but it's hard. He used to be a good friend." 

"Yeah, I know." Tilting his head, he studied the pensive face of his young lover and smiled. "You hungry?" 

"Not really." 

"You didn't eat worth shit at supper." 

"I'm fine. I'll just finish reading this chapter." 

"Then to bed?" 

Grinning, Blair shook his head. "I wish. I've got another paper to finish. I've got to proof it." 

"You can't wait until tomorrow?" 

"It was due yesterday." 

Disappointed, Jim reached down for Blair's book beside the chair and stood up to hand it over. "Guess you should get started then." 

"What are you going to do?" 

"Wait upstairs until you finish." 

"Thank god I'm a speed reader." 

* * *

Tim Davis sighed as he looked at the overwhelming stack of folders on his desk. What the hell did he know about running a business? Fuck Ellison anyway. 

"Hey, Davis. Got a minute?" Greg Haskell stood in the office doorway, his expensive suit a contrast to the minimal uniform Tim wore. Jamison's personal assistant might have looked GQ, but that didn't stop him from being more of a prick than a gentleman. Broad shoulders, a model's profile, and the morals of a sex-crazed alley cat made quite the package. 

"Sure. What's going on?" 

"Jamison wants you to do him a favor." 

"Favor?" 

Stepping inside, Haskell put Blair's picture on the desk. Even a grainy video grab didn't lessen his beauty. "Jamison can't track this guy down. Seems he spent the evening of Brett's party glued to your partner's ass. Thought maybe you could ask Ellison his name." 

"Why?" 

"What do you mean why?" 

Tim picked up the photo and pretended to study it. "I mean, why does Jamison need to find him? What's he want?" 

"What the fuck difference does that make? What Jamison wants, he gets. What? You got a problem with doing a favor for the man who's going to bail your ass out?" 

Biting back his anger, Tim kept his voice neutral. "Why not ask Junior?" 

"What?" 

"I said, ask his son. It was Brett's party, so ask him who the kid is." 

Frustrated, Haskell paced the room, his face angry. "Don't you think I'd already thought of that? The old man's weird sometimes. Says he just wants to talk to the kid, but that Brett might get the wrong idea." 

"Wrong idea?" 

"Seems this isn't the first time Jamison's got a jones for one of Brett's buddies. Last time it caused some problems when his son found out." 

Suspicious and intrigued, Tim leaned forward. "What kind of problems?" 

"What difference does it make?" 

"If I'm going to find this kid, I want to know what to expect. I'm not into falling into family shit if I can avoid it." 

Hesitating, Haskell stepped over to the door and closed it. "Look you didn't hear this from me, okay?" 

"Sure, okay." 

Rubbing his mouth a few times, Haskell continued pacing while he spoke. "Brett's got a temper." 

"I know that. I've seen his tantrums." 

"You haven't seen the half of it." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I really shouldn't be telling you this, but since you're going to be a partner, I guess you have a right to know what you're getting into." 

"Stop the fucking dance, Haskell, and tell me what the hell you're talking about." 

For the first time since he'd met him, the other man looked nervous. "A few months ago, Jamison took a liking to a kid named Taylor Griffin, the younger brother of one of Brett's football buddies. Anyway, when Brett found out Jamison was spending time with the kid, he went off. Threatened to turn him in." 

"Turn him in for what?" 

"Use your imagination." 

"Fuck that. Tell me straight out." 

"I can only tell you what Brett said, and he's a liar, so you don't know anything for sure." 

His gut gripped harder, the knots twisting his spine, his back painful. "Don't know what for sure?" 

Sighing, Haskell glanced away. "Look, I don't really believe it myself, Davis, or I couldn't do the job, you know?" 

"Jesus, would you just tell me?" 

"The kid said his old man was messing around with him since he was a boy and he was pissed off that his dad found someone new. Anyway, he beat the shit out of the Griffin kid and Jamison had to pay a small fortune to pay off the parents to keep them from filing charges against Brett." 

"Shit." Sick to his stomach, the queasy roll of bile threatened to overwhelm him. "What about charges against Jamison himself? Did he hurt the Griffin kid before his son found out?" 

"I'm not saying he did or he didn't. All I'm saying is that Jamison wants to find this new kid, but he doesn't want Brett to know anything about it." 

Shaking his head, Tim threw Blair's picture back on the desk. "I don't want anything to do with this shit, Haskell. It's sick." 

Suddenly angry and defensive, Haskell stepped closer. "You'd better rethink that, Davis. Jamison's paying big money to buy out your deadbeat partner. You want to keep that as an option, you shut your mouth and do what you're told." 

"I'm not that desperate." 

"You will be if Jamison stops the deal and fires your ass." 

"Then fire away, Haskell. The deal's off anyway. I don't need this kind of shit." 

Haskell stopped moving for a moment, the lines furrowing his brow even deeper, the concern stressing the words. "What the fuck do you mean the deal's off? You can't tell Jamison I told you any of this." 

"I don't plan to, but I'm not going to work with a man like that." 

"You don't know dick. You've just got Brett's word and the kid's psycho." 

Stepping around the corner of the desk, his voice grew tough. "And how the fuck did he get that way? I've seen enough shit around here to know things aren't the way they should be. I just didn't realize how fucking bad they really were. Now I know. I want out." 

"You do that and you could lose everything. Jamison's a vindictive son of a bitch. Makes his son look like a real prince. All you have to do is find the new kid. It's got nothing to do with you after that." 

Picking up Blair's picture again, Tim shook his head and headed to the doorway. "You're a cowardly mother fucker, Haskell. You want to pimp for Jamison, go ahead, but be warned. If anything happens to this kid, I'm going to hold you just as responsible." 

"Where are you going?" 

"To let Jamison know there's no way I'm taking his money. I'll give him notice so he can find another security company, but we're out of here just as soon as he's got someone else." 

"You're crazy. He's got a contract. He can sue your ass and ruin you. You don't know what he's like." 

Staring down at Blair's photo, Tim wanted to scream, but kept his voice even. "I wish to hell that were true." 

* * *

Jim turned over, his beard scraping against the soft cotton. The persistent tapping of keys soothed rather than worried him. Blair's late night typing reminded him of his young lover's presence. Just as he started to shut his eyes again, he grabbed his head as the unexpected pounding on the door battered his eardrums. Sitting up, he held himself steady as he spied over the rail to see Blair come out of his room and look up. "Should I get it?" 

"No, hold on." Sniffing the air, he wrinkled his nose. Too much scotch drowned out the scent of Tim's aftershave. Snatching up his robe, he hurried downstairs and opened the door, Blair standing right behind him. "Tim, what's wrong?" 

"The whole fucking world, that's what." The words slurred as Jim held the door open. Tim staggered in, his eyes half-closed, his movements jerky. "The kid here?" 

"I'm not a kid." 

Taking a deep breath, Tim made it to the table and rested his head down on both his arms. "God, I feel like shit." 

"You look like shit. Blair, why don't you make us some coffee?" 

"Already done, man." 

While Blair busied himself with the mugs and filter, Jim locked the door and sat down across from his partner. "I thought you were on the wagon?" 

"Fucking wagon dropped me on my ass." 

"I can see that. Any particular reason?" 

Raising his head, his eyes dazed and blood-shot, Tim sighed. "You're a miserable bastard, you know that?" 

"Hey, man, that's not fair." 

"Stay out of this, Chief." He held up a quieting hand, but his voice remained gentle. "Tim, what's going on?" 

"We're going to lose the business." 

"I thought Jamison was buying it out." 

"I fucking quit and there's no way I'd own a business with that twisted son of a bitch. No fucking way." Shaking, Tim sat up and wrapped his arms around himself. "Might as well close up shop." 

"You don't have to do that." 

"He's our biggest client." Pausing, Tim covered his mouth and shuddered. "Besides, I can't do this business thing. I don't have a clue what to do." 

Taking in his friend's defeated appearance, Jim leaned forward, the guilt heavy and weighing him down. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you in this position. You can forget about the money for my half." 

"Thanks, but that's not even an issue." Swallowing hard, Tim held himself upright and met Jim's eyes. "I don't really care about the business that much. I can call my brother down in L.A. He can figure how to get out of this. We'll both pretty much break even." 

"So, why the drinking?" 

"Because I'm fucked, Jim." 

"Fucked how?" 

Edging closer, his voice only a whisper, he fumbled the words. "Your boy's in trouble." 

"Blair's in trouble? How?" At the mention of his name, Blair stepped closer, but remained silent. 

"Jamison's a fucking pedophile, man. Haskell as much as told me he's been screwing his own kid and now he's branching out." 

"Shit." Jim sat back, his mind trying to take in the whole picture. "You're saying Jamison molested his son?" 

"I'm saying the whole thing is fucked up. I can give you all the details later, but I'm screwed, Jim. I don't know what to do. If I go to the police, all I've got is hearsay. If I let it go, well, it just goes on." He looked over at Blair and motioned his head. "And your boy's first on the to do list. Jamison wants him. Bad." 

"Jim, what the hell is he talking about? How does Jamison even know about me?" 

"He saw the tape from the party." 

Blair's eyes narrowed as he pushed back his wild hair. "You knew about this?" 

"Tim mentioned it this afternoon." 

"And you didn't tell me?" 

"Cut me some slack, Chief. I didn't know what the deal was, not until now." 

"This sucks." Blair's face twisted in confusion as he shook his head. "But why me?" 

"Because you're beautiful, kid." Tim swallowed and rubbed his face as he tried to clear his vision. "I mean, hell, even a guy like Jim couldn't hold out." 

"Shut up, Davis." 

Angry, Tim stood up. "Shut up? Who the hell are you to tell me to shut the fuck up?" His voice rose, the rage pushing the words. "What makes you any different from Jamison? You both want the same damn thing." 

"That's enough, man. You don't know shit about Jim and me." 

Blair stepped closer, but Jim stood up between his lover and his ex-partner. "Settle down, Chief. Tim's just upset." 

"He's drunk." 

"Yeah, that, too. You know about that, right?" Blair's face softened only a little as he thought about his drunken roommate. 

Tim sat back down quickly and held his head, the low moan escaping as he turned even more pale. "I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean that. I know you're not like that prick, but I just don't know what to do here." 

Jim put his hand on Tim's shoulder and squeezed. "Why don't you just sack out on the couch tonight and we'll figure out something in the morning?" 

"It's after one o'clock already." 

"I meant when the sun's up." 

"Fuck. The room's spinning." 

Helping him to the sofa, it took only a few moments before Tim closed his eyes, his breathing heavy, but regular. Blair moved to stand beside Jim and spoke quietly while he watched Tim's drugged sleep. "You know what?" 

"What?" 

"Maybe I should introduce him to Charlie." 

* * *

Watching the dawn peeking through the windows, Jim sipped his coffee. His body ached from stress and fatigue, the whole night just one long worry. How could he fight a man like Jamison, make him pay for what he'd done to his son, keep him away from Blair or others? 

Jim put down his mug and rubbed his face with both hands, his eyes blood-shot and sandy. His side ached and begged for a more comfortable position, but he remained still. A plan formed in his mind, but he needed to talk it over and so far everyone just kept sleeping. He envied their slumber. 

"Jim?" 

He looked up to see Blair standing in the doorway of his downstairs room, his dark curls fuzzy around his head. "Morning, Chief." 

"Didn't you sleep at all?" 

"I'm fine." 

Stepping in closer, Blair scratched his head and stared at Tim as he snored on the sofa. "No signs of life yet?" 

"He's still pretty much out of it." 

"You think he was telling the truth about Jamison?" 

Jim met concerned blue eyes and nodded. "Yeah." 

"So what are we going to do?" 

"I don't know yet, but don't worry." 

Sitting on the armrest, his thighs stretching the boxers, the outline of his cock prominent, Blair shook his head. "How can I not worry, Jim? I mean, this sick fuck wants to do me." 

"I know, but he's not going to get that chance." 

Blair used both hands to tame his hair, pushing it back out of his face. "I've been thinking about this all night and it really freaks me out, and I'm not just talking about the old man coming after me. I'm talking about Brett. He's a real prick, but now it all makes sense." 

"What does?" 

"How he acts. All the different things he does, how he bullies and wants so much attention, not to mention how he fucks every girl he can find. It's like classic, man." 

"You mean because he was molested?" 

"Yeah. In my psych course we were studying how abuse leads to all kinds of fucked up behavior. Some people withdraw, some act out." 

"And you think that's why Brett's such a horse's ass?" 

"Yeah, I do." Glancing over at Tim, he added, "Of course, being a horse's ass can't always be directly linked to that." 

A groan answered as Tim rolled over, holding his head, his eyes still squeezed shut. "Jesus, somebody just shoot me." 

"Sorry, man. Jim won't let me touch his gun." 

"That's not what I heard." 

Blair shook his head in disgust and stood up. "I'm taking a shower. You want to kick his sorry ass in private, feel free." 

As soon as Blair shut the bathroom door, Jim took a deep breath and mustered his patience. "You want coffee?" 

"I want a fucking dose of morphine." 

"Sorry. Fresh out." 

"Coffee then. Black." Carefully, Jim stood, the painful pull at his wound hitching his breath. 

"You okay, Jim?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine. It just catches me off guard sometimes." 

"I guess a fucking hole through your body will do that." 

"I guess." As he walked to the kitchen, he ground his jaw against the general weakness still lingering. Pouring coffee, he turned to find Tim sitting up and holding both hands up to cover his eyes. "Too bright in here?" 

"What time is it?" 

"It's only a little before seven. You haven't had a chance to get all that shit out of your system yet." He carried the fresh drink to his friend and then sat back down in the chair across from him. In the background, he heard the watery sounds of Blair showering, his slow soapy strokes over his young skin tempting his cock to wake up and take notice. Skin against skin, sliding and slick, the uneven pant of his breathing made it hard for Jim to turn down his hearing. Listening to Blair jerk off made him crazy. 

"Jim? You with me?" 

"Yeah, I was just thinking." 

"Well, I hope you were just thinking about a way out of this mess." 

Blinking several times, he cleared his head of the vision of Blair touching himself. "A lot depends on this cop I know." 

"A cop? Are you sure that's the best way to go with this?" 

"No, but I think we can trust this guy. His name is Banks. He's the one working the case where I got shot. I'm thinking we could call him in and see what he thinks we should do." 

"In the meantime, what do we do with your boy Sandburg?" 

"I'll take care of Blair." 

"You planning on being his bodyguard?" 

"Until we get this straightened out, yeah." 

Tim frowned and leaned forward as he put the cup on the coffee table. "No offense, Jim, but right now you couldn't guard shit." 

Irked, but not giving in, Jim wrapped his arms around his chest and stared harder. "I can do what I have to." 

"Look, why don't I watch the kid while you meet with that cop friend of yours? Jamison or one of his cronies isn't going to try anything with me there." 

"You think you can do a better job than I can?" 

"Right now, yeah. Getting shot and making goo goo eyes doesn't make for the best security." 

Jerking his head up, his face flushed, Jim complained. "Goo-goo eyes? I don't do goo goo eyes. What the fuck are you talking about?" 

"Whatever, Jim. All I'm saying is that we both know I'm less likely to be admiring the kid when I should be looking for signs of trouble." 

Reluctantly, Jim surrendered. "Okay, but only if Blair agrees. He's a little headstrong." 

"A little? Fuck. That's like saying I only like to drink a little." 

"Then we'll just have to convince him." 

"We? Fuck that, Jim. You want him safe, you convince him. I'm just here to make sure Jamison doesn't put his ass on the menu." 

The simmering rage surfaced. "He touches Blair, he's a dead man." 

"No argument there." 

* * *

Blair added cream to his coffee and stirred, his mind swarming with both aggravation and questions. He studied the man across from him, the sandy hair fine and straight, the brown eyes bloodshot, but alert. "I doubt anyone's going to try anything in the Student Union Building, man. Relax." 

Ignoring the invitation to let down his guard, Tim kept his eyes on the crowds around them. "Anything happens to you and my ass isn't worth shit, kid." 

Blair tasted his coffee, made a face at the bitterness and shook his head. "This sucks. Tastes nasty." 

Tim nodded as he pushed his own cup away. "I've had better." 

Nervous and uneasy, Blair settled back in the corner of the booth, his body anxious and his mind unsettled. "So, how long have you and Jim known each other?" 

"Long enough." 

"Long enough for what?" 

Meeting his eyes for the first time, Tim frowned. "Long enough for me to know I don't have a clue why he does what he does." 

"I don't get it." 

Clenching his jaw and sitting back, Tim hesitated and then leaned forward, keeping his voice low. "Jim saved my ass about a year ago. I owe him. That doesn't mean I have to like what he's doing now." 

"You mean about him being with me." Blair refused to look away, his face flushed, the tingle of anger twisted with fear. "I know you don't approve, man. You've made that clear enough." 

"Damn right I don't. Jim's a good man. I don't want to see him in jail." 

"And you think I do?" 

"I don't know what you want, kid. I mean, where the hell are your parents?" 

Biting his lower lip, restraining himself and keeping his voice steady took a lot of energy. "First of all, don't call me kid. I hate that. It's so fucking condescending. And second, my family is none of your damn business." 

"Jim could go to prison for being with you." He held up a hand before Blair could speak. "I know you think that can't happen because you're in love and all that shit, but you're naive to think that. I know people who've been put away for less. Plus, there are things you don't know about." 

A cold iciness swamped his skin. "You mean about Jim?" 

"Yeah. About Jim." 

"What?" 

"I probably shouldn't tell you all this." 

Frustrated, Blair pushed harder. "Man, I need to know." 

Eyeing the younger man, Tim nodded. "All right, but you've got to be cool." 

"Sure." 

"Jim's got a problem sometimes." 

"What kind of problem?" 

"He kind of loses it. I don't think he could make it in prison." 

"I don't understand." 

Pursing his lips, Tim looked around to check the crowd before he spoke. "You know about the Peru thing, right?" 

"Yeah. He lost all his men and was with the Chopec for about eighteen months." 

"Okay, I knew him before he left, but when he came back, he wasn't he same. He even said so himself. He has these episodes where he just sort of shuts down. He doesn't respond to anything and he doesn't remember when it happens. I've only seen it a couple of times, thank god." 

Blair thought back to the times when Jim scared him, the older man's face vacant and his body unresponsive after coming. Uneasy, not sure how to ask, he just blurted out, "Were you and Jim lovers?" 

Stunned, Tim snorted. "Hell no." 

"So when did he have these episodes?" 

A little slow on the uptake, Tim finally got the implication. He blushed and looked away. "Oh, shit, I didn't need to know that." 

"Come on, man, tell me." 

Swallowing hard, trying to cover up his embarrassment, Tim still didn't meet Blair's eyes. "It happened after a fight once. He beat the shit out of this guy and then later in the truck, he just stopped. I'm talking nobody home, you know? Scared the shit out of me the first time it happened. Finally he came back to himself and he didn't remember a thing, just dismissed it like it was no big deal, but later told me that's why the army discharged him. Some kind of delayed stress thing or some such shit. Another time we were on my boat and he was just staring out at the open water. Took almost a fucking hour for him to come out of it. Fuck. I was afraid I'd have to call the coast guard." 

"You think it's hooked up with the Post Traumatic Stress deal?" 

"Probably. I mean, he's fine most of the time, but then bam, he's gone. There's no warning." 

"Shit." 

"I know. Then there's the guilt thing." 

"Guilt thing?" 

"You haven't noticed? He takes on the troubles of the world like it's some kind of fucking penance." 

Blair rubbed his face, trying to take it all in and balance it with what he already knew about the man he loved. "I have sort of noticed that part." 

"I'm not saying that it's a bad thing. It just makes him vulnerable, you know?" 

"Yeah, I do." After a long silence, Blair fisted his hands in front of him. "And you think I'm going to cause even more trouble?" 

"You already have." 

Taking a deep breath, Blair hesitated and then took a chance. "I really do love him. I know you think I'm just a kid and don't know shit, but I know what I feel. I've never met anyone like Jim before. I can't leave him." 

"And you think it's worth the risk?" 

"Yeah, and so does Jim." 

Shaking his head, his hand to his mouth, it took several long moments before Tim finally spoke. "Why don't we get out of here? Didn't you say you had a class soon?" 

"Yeah, in about fifteen minutes." 

"Then let's go." 

Blair scooted to the edge of the booth and stalled, making one more attempt to reach Jim's friend. "I wish you could understand." 

"You want understanding, call a priest, or in your case a rabbi. You want protection, I'm here. Don't ask me for a fucking blessing, because I can't give that, not even for Ellison." 

As Tim stood, Blair reluctantly grabbed his pack. Getting to his feet, he stopped when he saw Charlie heading towards the table. "Shit. I don't need this." 

"What?" Tim turned and caught the young man's determined approach. "You know that guy?" 

"He's my roommate." 

"Doesn't look happy." 

Before Charlie reached them, Blair motioned to leave. "Let's get out of here. I don't want a scene." 

"Blair, wait up, man. I want to talk." 

Pursing his lips, his voice even, Blair remembered the hateful words of their last meeting. "I think you said everything yesterday." 

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean any of that shit. I was just pissed about you moving out." 

"And that gives you the right to fuck me over like that?" 

"No. I was wrong. Just give me another chance, man." Moving in closer, Charlie touched his arm and lowered his voice. "I just want to talk, Blair. It's important." The pleading tone weakened his resolve to cut the ties with his friend. Before he could answer, Charlie asked, "Who's this guy?" 

"This is Tim Davis. He's a friend of Jim's." 

Charlie's eyes narrowed, his face troubled. "I know you. You work for Jamison." 

"Only temporarily." 

Turning back to Blair, almost in a panic, Charlie's voice stressed each word. "I'm telling you, Blair, I _have_ to talk to you. In private. Please." 

Following his instincts, Blair nodded. "Tim, could you give me a minute?" 

"Just a minute, kid. I'll stand over here." Making eye contact with Charlie, he added, "I'm not going far." 

As Tim stepped away, Charlie's spoke faster. "It's Brett. He's looking for you, man." 

"Brett? Did he say why?" 

"He's pissed about something. He came to the room looking for you. Wanted to know where you were. I didn't tell him, but he's still looking. What's going on, Blair? Does this have something to do with Ellison?" 

"Look, thanks, man, but you don't have to worry. It's complicated, but Tim's here to make sure I'm okay." 

"Then you already knew about Brett?" 

"Sort of." Leaning in, he spoke in a hush. "I can't talk about it now. When it's all over, I'll fill you in, okay?" 

"You promise?" 

Touching his arm gently, Blair met his green eyes. "I promise. Thanks for the warning, but just stay out of it." 

"Anyone hurts you, I'm going to kick his ass." 

Tim tapped his shoulder and smiled for the first time that day. "Stand in line, kid. It starts behind Ellison." 

* * *

"Do you realize what you're saying here, Ellison?" 

"I know exactly what I'm saying." 

Simon Banks pursed his lips and shook his head, the weight of the accusation dragging him down. "And I don't suppose you have anything to back it up, like a witness or some tiny shred of evidence?" 

"I've only got my partner's word about what Jamison's personal assistant told him and his gut reaction." 

"Well, that ought to get a warrant in no time flat." 

"I'm not kidding here." The words snapped out as Jim crossed his arms, the air too thin for his lungs. 

"No, I know you're not." Simon sighed and sagged down on the sofa. "Jamison's one of the wealthiest men in the state. With what you've got, it'd be hard to work up a case against even an everyday citizen. There's no way in hell my captain's going to approve doing anything against this guy." 

"Couldn't you bring him in for questioning? Let him know we know what he's up to? Maybe that'd be enough to scare him off." 

"Maybe I'll get to move into the governor's mansion for Christmas, but I'm not holding my breath." Simon held out his hand to count off as he spoke. "First, all you've got is hearsay twice removed. There's no way that means much in the way of pushing to open a case. Second, Jamison's made no threat or even made contact with Blair. We bring him in, he's liable to say he's setting up a scholarship fund or something." He leaned forward, his voice even more serious. "Third, if we try to do this without more than we have, it could come out that Blair's living here with you. I don't think you want that to happen. The fewer people who know what's going on with that, the better." 

Grinding his jaw, Jim took several deep breaths before he trusted himself to speak. "So, what? We just have to fucking wait until something happens, until Blair gets hurt?" 

"I didn't say that." 

"And what about the son? He's a loose cannon for damn sure. Did you check his records like I asked?" 

"Settle down, Ellison." 

"Did you?" 

"I did, and there's nothing official. If there was an assault on this Griffin kid, it's not on file." Holding up a hand to stave off comment, Simon continued. "That's not saying it didn't happen. I checked around, pulled in a few favors. Seems there was an accident report and the boy was treated at Cascade General for some serious injuries. I'm still working on getting the details and finding out who paid the bills. Even if we do get a connection, you have to understand, that still doesn't give us much when it comes to Jamison himself." 

"But it gives us a link to the son if we can get the Griffin kid's parents to talk." 

Simon shook his head, his face serious. "Listen, Ellison, I think you're barking up the wrong tree. If these people made a deal to cover up what Brett Jamison did to their own son, I doubt if they're going to worry much about what happens to a stranger." 

"So what do we do?" 

"Who's with Sandburg now?" 

"My partner, Tim Davis." 

Simon stood up and walked to the door, grabbing his coat and giving a nod. "Tell him to stick with him. Don't let the kid out of his sight. I'm going to do some more digging. If what you say is true, we're going to need a lot more ammunition than what we have to bring the man down. And if it is true, I _do_ want to bring this son of a bitch down." 

Jim noted the harsh tone, the depth of anger behind the words. "Thank you." 

"Don't thank me yet. Just make sure the kid's okay. I'll check in a little later today. You've got my number if anything new comes up." 

"Yeah, I've got your number, detective." 

And he did. 

* * *

Walking through the parking lot side by side with Blair, Tim shook his head. "I forgot what it was like to sit through boring lectures." 

"It's not so bad. Dr. Martin's a little drier than most." 

"A little drier? Shit, kid, if the guy were any drier, my ass would be in the Sahara." 

"Anybody ever mention you've got a really negative attitude?" 

"Not to my face." 

"Right." Blair shifted his backpack from his left shoulder to his right, his body tired from the strain of not enough sleep and worrying about what might happen next. Changing the subject, he asked, "I've got to go to the library to get some articles before I go home. Maybe we should call Jim and let him know we'll be a little late." 

"These articles can't wait until tomorrow?" 

"Not really. I can stop by the dorm and use the room phone." 

Tim frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. "Your roommate going to be there?" 

"I don't know. Does it matter?" 

"Just use the phone booth up here on the corner. I don't think it's a good idea to go to places where Junior might show up looking for you again." 

"You think he's still looking?" 

"Don't want to take any chances." 

Nodding, heading for the booth just at the end of the lot, Blair heard the screech of tires and saw the black Jag swing in and swerve in his direction. Before he could react, Tim shoved him out of the way, his body slamming into the brick wall on the far edge of the sidewalk. The car rammed into the older man's body, throwing it into the air, blurring all motion. Tim hit the concrete with a sickening thud as the car door swung open and Brett Jamison jumped out, a gun in his hand. "Get your ass up and in the car, Sandburg." 

Still lying on the sidewalk, his body numb, Blair shook his head. "Get the fuck away from me, Jamison." 

As the young man stepped closer, a scream cracked the air and someone shouted, "Oh, my god, call 911." A crowd of students surged forward, one boy kneeling beside Tim, already using his cell phone as the others just watched in confusion. 

Frustrated, Jamison barked, "This isn't over." He ran to his car and sped off before anyone could stop him. 

Struggling to his feet, Blair stumbled over to an unconscious Tim, blood from his friend's mouth and nose running down his chin, his right leg twisted in an unnatural angle. A hand stopped him from touching Tim's face and an unfamiliar voice broke through his panic. "An ambulance is on it's way. Are you hurt anywhere?" 

"I'm fine. How is he?" 

"He's alive." 

Glancing up, he met dark brown eyes staring back. "Who are you?" 

"Cal Terry. I'm pre-med. We shouldn't move him. He's breathing, but might have head and back injuries or internal bleeding. What's his name?" 

"Tim Davis." 

"You sure you're okay? You look a little dazed." 

"It all happened so fast." Blair closed his eyes, his chest too heavy to move the air. He swallowed hard and steadied himself on Terry's arm as he heard the sirens screaming in his ears. "I have to call Jim." 

The med student stood up and pulled Blair to his feet as the ambulance arrived at the far edge of the lot. "Let's get out of the way. You can use my cell phone and they can check you over, too." 

"I'm fine." 

"Yeah, maybe, but you're bleeding and you've got a bad bruise coming up on your temple. Sit down over here." Terry led him to the curb and held on as Blair slumped down. Shaking, he dialed Jim's number and closed his eyes, the sound of Tim's body hitting the ground after saving his life running over and over in his head. 

"Jim, it's Blair. Tim's been hurt." Before he could say anything else, light narrowed and Jim's frantic questions faded into tinny echoes stretched out across a frozen and gaping darkness. 

* * *

Jim paced the waiting room, his arms crossed, his jaw clenching nonstop. He halted as Simon Banks entered and walked over. "Davis?" 

"He's still in surgery. Touch and go from what I'm hearing." 

"And Blair?" 

"His cousin's here. He's signing the papers to have him admitted for observation. Good thing you knew his number." 

"I thought they were going to release him?" 

Simon shook his head and rubbed the back of his head. "The doctor just wants to be sure he's okay. Something about his age and a head injury. Blair keeps getting confused and asking the same question." 

"About Tim?" 

"Yeah. He's not completely oriented yet." Simon motioned his head toward one of the chairs and sat down, Jim following suit. "The kid's tough. I just think he's not used to seeing someone get hurt like that. First he saw you get shot a few weeks ago and now this. It's a lot for someone so young to take in, especially after banging his head against a brick wall." 

"I want to see him." 

"I know you do, but you can't, at least not yet." Simon lowered his voice and leaned in. "Does Blair's cousin know he's living with you instead of in the dorm?" 

"No." 

"Then maybe you ought to meet the guy and let him know you care about Blair." 

"It's more than caring. I love him." 

"You know what I mean." 

Jim turned and met concerned eyes. His gut knotted and he forced his voice to stay calm. "What if he wants Blair out of my place?" 

"That's the risk you have to take. He's the legal guardian. He has a right to know where Blair's living." 

Jim took a deep breath and covered his mouth, his whole body on alert, the fear of losing Blair growing even stronger. He spoke softly, but the words came out rough-edged and tight. "Blair doesn't have any family, not really. This Robert's a distant cousin who happens to live in town. It was just a convenience to make him guardian while his mom runs all over the goddamn world. Blair said the last time he saw this guy, it was to help him collect bets and that was a year ago before he started at school." 

"Collect bets? The guy's a bookie?" 

"Yeah." 

"Fuck." 

Jim stared at Simon and nodded, his face grim. "I want to see Blair and make sure he's okay. He can decide on his own where he wants to live." 

"Legally he could keep you from seeing him, but I don't think he will." 

"Why not?" 

Simon shrugged and avoided Jim's eyes. "Just a gut instinct. Wait here. I'll be back in a minute." 

As Simon left, Jim leaned forward, resting his face in his hands. His head pounded, the image of his partner's battered body rushed by on the gurney flashing through his mind. Tim might not make it and even if he did, he might be paralyzed or brain damaged. Shit. He didn't want to think about that. Not now, not yet. 

Biting his lower lip, he sat back up and blinked several times to clear his vision. Blair might have been killed, might have been stolen from him like everyone else in his life. A parade of faces blinked in his head, his mom, Bud, each of his men in Peru as they died, some of them without warning, some with drawn out screams and whimpers. His body stiffened, locked down with painful memories kicking inside his skull, reshaping the bone, his muscles tight and unresponsive. Life drained away, his breathing dulled and distant. Trapped in a wasteland of losses, he shivered and slipped into the frigid open waters of his thoughts, drowning and unable to catch hold of the present. 

The large, dark hand shaking him brought him back slowly. "Jim?" 

Several long moments later, his tongue thawed, language foreign and strange. "What happened?" 

"I think that's my line. You okay? I couldn't get you to answer." 

Rubbing his forehead with one hand, Jim muttered, "I'm fine." 

"Yeah, right. I was about to call a team in here. I swear it looked like one of Eddie's flashbacks." 

"Eddie?" 

"Yeah, my old partner. I told you about him. The vet with the PTSD." 

Nodding, Jim sat up straighter, his body still sluggish. "Yeah, I remember. Did you talk to Blair's cousin?" 

"Yeah, he said he's got no problem with the kid staying at your place when he's released. To tell you the truth, he seemed relieved that he wouldn't have to be bothered." 

"Did he say I could see him?" 

"Yeah, and he told the doctor, too, before he took off." As Jim rose, Simon touched his shoulder. "After you see him, I want you to come with me to see Jamison about his son." 

"I'm not a cop." 

"But you know the man and I don't. I want to know if he's lying when I ask if he knows where Brett is. I've got an APB out on the kid and his car, but so far, it's like he's fallen off the face of the earth. We've already blocked off the airports and based on that tip you gave us about his private plane, we've sealed off Langford air strip, too. I need your help on this. If Jamison's aiding and abetting his son, I want to haul his ass in as well." 

Nodding, Jim headed for the door as he spoke. "I'll see Blair while you check on Davis and then I'll help you nail both the bastards." 

"Deal." 

* * *

Sitting by the bedside, Jim swallowed down the panic as he scanned the monitors and saw the near normal readings. Relieved, he focused on Blair and tilted the head as he studied bruising on the side of his temple and forehead. Blue eyes suddenly blinked several times before meeting his. "Jim?" 

Standing, Jim reached over the railing and touched Blair's face gently. "Yeah, it's me, Chief. How you doing?" 

"How's Tim?" 

"Still in surgery." 

"He saved my life, man." 

"I know." 

"I didn't ask him to do that." Blair's voice choked on the words as he fought against the tears. "He's got to be okay." 

"He will be." Jim gripped Blair's hand and squeezed it before he sighed. "It's just going to take some time. He's got some serious injuries." 

"I know. I saw him." Blair closed his eyes, his face even more pale. "I keep seeing and hearing it over and over, Jim. Brett wanted to kill me and Tim pushed me out of the way. It all happened so fucking fast." 

"Is that why you didn't know you were hurt?" 

"I didn't feel hurt. Just numb." 

"You were in shock." 

"I guess." He paused, his breathing more labored. "Why am I still here?" 

"You hit your head. They just want to be sure you're okay." 

His face twisted in confusion, Blair opened one eye and then closed it again as he frowned. "Was Robert here or did I just dream that?" 

"He's your next of kin. He had to sign to get you admitted." 

"But why? I'm fine." 

"You're not fine. You've got a head injury and you're still recovering from shock. You'll be better in the morning." 

"And Tim?" 

"We'll just have to wait and see." 

Blair wet his lower lip and braved opening his eyes. "I told Robert I was living with you and that I loved you. I didn't mean for it to come out. I wasn't thinking." 

A short riff of dread flitted across Jim's brain, but he kept his voice level. "It's okay. What'd he say?" 

"Robert's cool. He said it was my life." 

"And that's it?" 

"Well, he did say I should call my mom and tell her." 

"And are you?" 

"Am I what?" 

"Going to call your mom?" 

Blair closed his eyes again, his voice growing more shaky. "I already did." 

"You did? When?" 

"The other night. She's okay with it." 

"You told her about me?" 

"Not exactly." 

"Blair, stay with me here. What do you mean, not exactly?" 

Opening his eyes to a tight squint, Blair whispered, "She thinks you're an older woman. I didn't tell her any different. She just told me to be happy and I am happy as long as I'm with you. I love you and that's all that matters." 

Still holding Blair's hand, Jim petted back his hair, careful not to touch his wound. "I love you, too. I'm going to help Banks catch Jamison and this whole thing will be over soon." 

Blair's lip trembled. "Not for Tim, man." 

"No, not for Tim." 

* * *

"I told you on the phone, Detective Banks, I don't know where my son is." Jamison puffed his cigar and stood in front of his window staring out at the estate, his back to both men. The fancy suit fashioned for the stocky body did the job of hiding the extra bulk the man carried. It did nothing to camouflage the bent shoulders or worry. 

"I know what you said, Mr. Jamison, but your son's an armed fugitive." 

"Don't be ridiculous." 

"Witnesses at the scene reported that he had a gun after he ran down Mr. Davis. The APB has him listed as armed and dangerous. If you know where he is, you could save his life. I can't guarantee his safety otherwise." 

Nervous, but still stubborn, Jamison turned and stared at Jim. "And what do you think, Ellison? Do you really think Brett's dangerous? I mean, you know him. He's just a boy. A bit high-spirited perhaps, but not dangerous, surely." 

"He ran down my partner, Jamison, so yes, he's dangerous." 

Jamison wiped his brow and slumped down into his desk chair, no longer blustering. The once handsome face paled and his dark eyes squinted as he massaged his forehead with one hand. "I don't understand. Why'd he go after Davis?" 

"He didn't. He was aiming for Sandburg, the boy he was protecting." 

"But why? I told him I only wanted to find the boy for the commercials." 

"Commercials?" 

Still staring into space, Jamison's voice surrendered its brusqueness and took on an airy quality. "For the glasses. We've got a new line. The boy would be perfect for modeling, such beautiful blue eyes. But, Brett's always been so jealous. I've had him in and out of therapy since his mother died when he was six. The same thing happened last year with the Griffin boy. He gets these irrational feelings about anyone I show any attention to." 

Simon asked quietly. "And you showed attention to Griffin?" 

"Yes, he was perfect to model for the new line of clothes for the outerwear catalogue. Brett just took it all wrong." 

"Is that why he beat up Griffin?" 

"He just overreacted." 

Jim crossed his arms as his eyes narrowed. "And this behavior has nothing to do with the fact that you molested your own son?" 

"What?" Jamison stood up and shook his head vehemently. "Of course not. You don't understand. That never happened. It wasn't me." 

Simon Banks stepped forward, his voice deep and serious. "What wasn't you?" 

"I never molested Brett. It was my brother Thomas, his uncle." The words came out labored and choked as Jamison sat back on the edge of the desk, his shoulders hunched forward. "Right after his mother died, I was a mess. I left Brett with Thomas while I tried to get myself together. It wasn't until after Thomas died and Brett started acting out these obscene and obsessive fantasies about me that I discovered what actually happened. At any rate, Brett's ill. I've got a doctor's statement to support that. He'll never stand trial." 

Jim stepped next to Jamison, his voice harsh. "You knew what he was capable of and you didn't do anything to stop him? You're just as responsible as he is, Jamison. Now, tell me where he is. He may not live long enough for a trial if you don't. He's wild and out of control and you know it." 

Spirit broken, Jamison nodded slowly. "He's at the cabin." 

"Cabin? Which one?" 

"The one out past Cliffside Ridge." 

"Does he have anything besides the handgun?" 

Lifting his head, Jamison sighed. "Several of my shotguns and hunting rifles are missing. I'm afraid of what he might do." 

Simon frowned. "What are you saying, Jamison? You think he might kill himself?" 

"I don't know. Like Ellison said, he's out of control. He's hurt himself before. He tried hanging himself after Thomas died and then ran his car into a telephone pole right after he turned sixteen. He was drunk at the time, but it wasn't an accident. He admitted as much." 

Furious, Jim grabbed the front of Jamison's suit and pulled him up, their faces nose to nose. "Why the fuck haven't you done anything about this? You knew what was happening and you didn't do anything to stop it." 

Shaking, Jamison pushed Jim away and straightened his tie, his dignity lost even as he tried to regain his composure. "What the fuck do you know about it, Ellison? I love my son. I've given him everything money can buy, but he's still fucked up. Nothing works. What would you do? He's my son for christsakes. I have to protect him." 

Shaking his head in disgust, Jim turned towards Banks. "Come on. We're going to need back up. That cabin's easily defended. The more men we have, the better chance they can draw his fire and I can get in there to take him down." 

"You're not a cop, remember?" 

"No, but I'm covert ops trained and I designed the security layout. If you want the boy alive, I'm your best bet." 

"We'll argue about this on the way." 

Walking out the door, Jim complained, "You know I'm right." 

"I know you're a stubborn bastard." 

"Didn't make you a detective for nothing." 

* * *

The cabin looked more like a small resort than a rustic getaway, with a swimming pool, deck, and tennis court laid out just inside the iron security fences surrounding the perimeter. The building itself contained bullet-proof glass across the two sides and alarm systems set up at every entrance. Jim scanned the building and whispered, "He's in there." 

Simon put down his field glasses and looked over at Jim. "How can you tell? His Jag's here, but I can't see anyone." 

"Trust me. Look, I've got the security codes to go in the back way, but I need you and your men to lay low. He doesn't know we're here, so I might be able to sneak in and take him down without any shooting." 

"You don't know that. He could be waiting just inside the door with a shotgun. I can't risk it." 

Jim shook his head as he extended his hearing. "No, he's quiet, too quiet. I think he's taken something, maybe pills, booze, I don't know, but his heartbeat's too slow. I need to get in there." 

"Heartbeat? What the fuck are you talking about, heartbeat?" 

"I can't explain now. You've just got to trust me. I know what I'm doing." As he stood, Jim grabbed his side, the sudden pain catching him off guard." 

"You okay?" 

"I'm fine. I just keep forgetting I'm not a hundred percent yet." Noting the concern, Jim touched Simon's shoulder. "Don't worry. I can do this. Just keep your men in check until you get a signal from me. You've got the channel." 

Nodding at the communication device, Simon frowned. "I still don't like it. I don't hear anything in ten minutes, we're coming in." 

"Make it fifteen unless you hear gunfire or I signal." 

"You've got it." 

Working his way through the security systems, Jim made it to the back door, his muscles all on alert. His body zinged with exhilaration, the thrill of the hunt. A warrior at heart, he'd forgotten the power of adrenaline, the rush he got from playing the game. Only finding and taking down Jamison wasn't a game he could afford to lose. Once inside the kitchen, he listened for the sounds of his target. Following the auditory trail, he found Brett sitting on the floor, holding the handgun between his knees as he stared down the barrel. 

Keeping his own gun centered on the young man, Jim spoke quietly. "You sure you want to do that?" 

"Leave me alone." 

"I'm afraid I can't do that." 

"Sure you can. Just turn around and get the fuck out." 

"Davis isn't dead. You can still come out of this okay." 

Snorting a harsh laugh, Brett turned his head, his eyes dazed and dull. "You think?" 

"Put the gun down." 

"I might as well do it and get it over with. My dad hates me." 

"He doesn't." 

"You don't know shit, Ellison. My dad won't touch me anymore. He says I'm too old. I know it's fucked, but I can't stand it. I never wanted it before and now I can't do without it. That's fucked, right?" 

"Your dad told me about your uncle." 

Confused, Brett shook his head, his hands still holding tightly to the gun between his legs, his fingers teasing the trigger. "What's my uncle got to do with this?" 

"He said your Uncle Thomas molested you as a kid." 

"He's a fucking liar. Thomas never touched me. He died trying to stop it." 

"I don't understand." 

"My dad killed him because he threatened to turn him in." 

Easing in from the doorway, edging closer, Jim asked quietly. "How did he do that?" 

"Dad rigged the brakes on his car." 

"You know that for sure?" 

"Sure. He bragged about it." Swallowing hard, Brett's breathing slowed and his head jerked up as he struggled to stay awake. He lifted the gun towards Jim. "Stay back, man. You can't stop me." 

Halting, Jim stayed perfectly still. "Why go after Sandburg or Griffin? Why not tell the police about your father?" 

"You don't understand. I love my father. I hate him, too, because he's like a major asshole, but I love him. You know?" 

"No, I don't." 

"He's my _father_ , man. He wanted those other boys and I thought if I could stop him, he'd want me back." 

"But he didn't?" 

"No. He just thinks I'm another fuck up." Brett's gun dipped slightly and his eyes closed for an instant. Just as Jim tensed to move, they popped open and Jamison aimed the gun back at Jim. "Don't. Just turn around and leave. I'll be done soon." 

"You're going to pass out in a minute." 

Lifting the gun to his head, the young man smiled, his eyes droopy and sad. "Then I guess I should do this now, huh?" 

Jim saw the slow motion squeeze of the trigger and leaped forward, knocking the hand away just as the gun discharged. The boy's body bucked weakly in resistance as he wrestled the weapon away. Beneath him Brett sagged and went limp, his head back, his mouth wide open as he screamed, "Fuck...Fuck...Fuck!" 

Despite himself, Jim touched the boy's face in sympathy and then drew him to his chest, the low sobs wracking the young body. Arms wrapped around his middle as Brett cried, "I want to die, man. It hurts too fucking much." 

"I know, kid, I know." 

Rocking the boy in his arms, Jim missed Simon and his men watching from the doorway, their faces drawn and solemn as their weapons lowered to their sides. 

* * *

"You okay?" 

"I'm fine." Jim leaned against the top of the police cruiser as EMTs loaded the boy into the ambulance. Exhausted, he turned to Simon and motioned with his head toward the departing vehicle. "He's going to need a lot of help." 

"Yeah, I know. They'll pump out what's left in his stomach and put him in a psych ward for evaluation. I've called Protective Services." 

"It's not going to be easy prosecuting a man like Jamison." 

"We've got what the kid told you on the security tapes." 

"You think a lawyer will let you use something like that? They'll say he was under the influence." 

"That's up to the courts, but rumors are bound to get out and when they do, Jamison's business is done for." 

Jim turned around and leaned back against the car as he wiped his face with both hands. "I believed the fucker about the uncle." 

"I did, too." Simon pursed his lips and took a long puff on his cigar before speaking. "About what happened..." 

"What?" 

"The thing about the heartbeat being too slow. How could you possibly know something like that?" 

Uneasy, not sure what he should say, Jim avoided the piercing gaze. "Would you believe me if I said I made that up?" 

"No, but I'd believe you if you said you could hear things you shouldn't be able to." 

"You would?" 

Glancing around, being sure they were alone, Simon leaned in. "Look, I know you're not normal." 

"Gee, thanks, Banks." 

"Shut the fuck up and listen. I'm a cop, but I'm not stupid. You said you smelled drugs at the Chinese place and you were right. Who can do that? Then you and the kid both mentioned you heard the people arguing in the back when no one else heard it before your shooting. Now there's this thing with Jamison's heartbeat. I'm just saying, I know you're able to do things most people can't." 

Clenching his jaw, Jim met dark eyes and asked, "And how do you feel about that?" 

"I think you'd make a damn fine cop, but that you'd have to be careful not to let too many people know you've got an edge like that." 

"You don't think I'm a freak?" 

Tilting his head, Simon frowned with annoyance. "Freaks are people like Jamison. Besides, Sandburg loves you, so you can't be all that bad." 

"You don't think I'm like Jamison because I love Blair?" 

"Shut the fuck up and get in the car, Ellison. We need to go check on your partners." 

Stubbornly, Jim persisted. "You didn't answer the question." 

Simon stopped and held the door shut. "If I thought that, your ass would be in jail. Now, what I want from you is a promise." 

"What promise?" 

"That you'll never make me regret my decision. Treat the boy right, or you'll have me to contend with." 

"You won't have to worry about that, Simon. I promise." 

"Then get your ass in the car and let's go. I've still got to figure out what I'm going to tell my captain about letting you go in alone." 

"Tell him I was the best man for the job." 

"Well, at least I won't be lying." 

* * *

Sleepy eyes opened and Blair yawned. He turned his head and smiled, his face still relaxed and drowsy. "Hey, Jim." 

"Hey, Chief." 

The happy expression suddenly faded as Blair scrunched up his face. "How's Tim?" 

"He's still hanging in there. He's in intensive care. We'll know more tomorrow morning." 

"Shit. I was hoping it was all a bad dream." 

"Sorry. No dream." 

Still frowning, Blair focused and stared up at Jim. "You look tired, man." 

"I am." Jim reached over the railing to take Blair's hand. He lifted it to his mouth, the kiss soft as he stroked back the wild curls from his forehead. "Jamison's in custody and his son's in the hospital. He's being evaluated." 

"Evaluated? Did you have to shoot him?" 

"No. He tried to shoot himself." 

"Fuck." Blair closed his eyes as he squeezed Jim's hand. "God, I'm so tired of this shit." 

"I know. Just rest. I'll take you home in the morning." 

Opening his eyes, Blair argued, "I could go now. I'm really not hurt that bad." 

"In the morning, Chief. Just to be safe, okay?" 

Reluctantly, Blair relented and took hold of Jim's hand with both his own. "Okay, but first thing tomorrow I'm out of here. I want to see Tim before I go though." 

"I don't know if that's a good idea." 

"He saved my life, man. The least I can do is see him. Besides, I have to talk to him." 

"He's unconscious." 

"Studies show that even unconscious, a person can hear what's going on around them. I mean, when you were unconscious before, you could hear me when I talked, right?" 

Remembering his young guide's voice bringing him back to the living, he nodded. "Yeah, I could hear you. Loud and clear." 

"I have to talk to him, Jim. I have to tell him I'm sorry for some of the things I said, some of the awful things I was thinking." 

Touched by his lover's pleading tone, he caressed his face gently. "He already knows that, Blair." 

"I have to be sure, man. It's important." 

"Sure." Cupping Blair's cheek, Jim sighed. "I'm just glad you're okay." 

Nuzzling his face into Jim's open hand, Blair whispered a confession. "I was so scared. It was like when you got shot. Everything seemed crazy." 

"I know. But you're safe now." 

"I just want to go home and forget this shit ever happened." 

Frowning, Jim took Blair's hand between both of his and leaned in closer. "It's not going to be that easy. You still have to make a statement about what happened when Tim was hit." 

Blair squeezed his eyes shut again and turned his head away. "I don't want to think about it. It was almost as bad as when you were shot. It hurts to think about it." 

"I know." Petting the back of Blair's head, Jim spoke in a low hush. "It's okay to be scared and upset. It's only natural. You're not used to seeing people hurt." 

Suddenly angry, Blair jerked his head away from Jim's soft touch and looked up at him, his mouth set in tight line. "I'm not a kid. I can handle it." 

"I didn't say you couldn't." Jim refused to let Blair's hand leave his and kept his voice low. "It's not a matter of being a kid, Blair. It's a matter of being human. You've been through a lot in such a short time. You've changed my life completely. You kept me going when it would've been easy to give up. I'm just saying it's okay to let me help you a little, too, that's all." 

Relaxing, Blair reluctantly nodded, his face still drained of color. "I didn't mean to snap, man. It's just this is so unreal, you know? I've only been in the hospital once before when I broke my arm. Now, you've been shot, Tim's in critical condition, and I'm lying here with my head about ready to explode. You're right. It's a lot." 

Tenderly stroking the back of his hand up the side of Blair's face, Jim whispered, "Just relax, Chief. Rest awhile and you'll feel better." 

Blair nodded and swallowed hard. "After I fall asleep, will you do me a favor?" 

"Sure. What?" 

"Go sit with Tim. I can't stand the idea of him being alone." 

Blair's concern for his partner warmed him, made the blood rush along his skin. "He's not alone. His girlfriend Juli's with him and his brother Jack came in from San Francisco. But I will go down and see him before I come back up here." 

"You don't have to stay with me all night, Jim. I'm not a baby." 

Smiling, Jim leaned over the rail and kissed his lover's forehead, his words intimate and hushed. "You're my baby and I'm staying." 

Blushing, his voice choked, Blair grabbed Jim's face before he could pull away. "You're so fucking stubborn, man." 

"I love you, too, Chief." 

* * *

Epilogue: Two Weeks Later 

Jim rolled over, his beard catching on fuzzy curls as he opened his eyes. The strong smell of male night sweat and arousal teased his cock into waking. Beside him the soft, heated breaths of his lover played across his chest. He smiled as he pulled away and slid down the mattress, letting Blair's body slip face down on the bed. Taking a deep breath, his chest swelled with the ache of wanting, his young partner's unique smell like a hard leash tugging at his groin. Jim pulled back the sheets and stared longingly at the smooth, round ass, knowing the pleasure waiting between them. Easing himself over, he kneeled between open legs and bent forward, his hands carefully spreading Blair's asscheeks. He spit several times at his target and used his thumbs to massage the tight hole, not stopping as the younger man's breathing hitched and changed sharply. Soft needy moans prompted him to continue as Blair hissed and panted, "Oh, Jesus." 

Eager hips raised toward his face as his tongue said hello, the tip pressing in, the whimpers begging for more getting willing respect. He raised a playful head and whispered, "You like that, Chief?" 

"God, you know I do. Fuck. Don't stop." 

"Hadn't planned to. I'm hungry." 

Earthy scent flared in his brain as he continued to tongue fuck his young lover. His beard reddened the tender skin as he nibbled around the opening, kissing the flesh as he grew more and more aggressive. Using his fingers, he alternated between mouth and digit, Blair's strong musk swirled fog to swaddle the heat, his own cock throbbing for attention. He blew and sucked, probed and groaned as Blair rocked against him, his lover's salty sweat burning his air. A sudden jerking brought his head up as Blair came, his whole body arched up in pleasure, his face contorted with coming as he cried out. Need wound up his back, his own hunger coiling up, the desire for those full lips running rampant through his belly. 

As he wrapped his arms around Blair, he kissed along his neck, his body spooning along the smaller back. His husky whisper surprised him as he pleaded in his lover's ear. "Suck me." 

Without speaking, Blair pulled away and smiled, his face dazed and happy. Directing Jim to lie down, he stretched out over him and licked a trail down his chest, his mouth pure heat. Trembling, Jim gripped the headboard, holding on tight to control himself, his thighs shaking, his cock and balls twitching for touch. "Blair. Please." 

A curly head lifted, the wicked grin an evil tease. "Don't worry, man. I'm getting there. I'm taking the scenic route." 

"Fuck the scenic route." 

"Maybe later." The laugh vibrated his chest as Blair gobbled more of his skin, his nipples ravaged, his navel a short stop before wet fire took him into heaven one sweet inch at a time. The talented mouth tickled the tip and then nipped along the length while his fingers fondled his balls. Thrusting his hips, Jim screamed as his lover pushed a finger inside him just as he swallowed his whole cock. Fire flamed up his spine as layers of color spun around in his head, his release like a flashing clap of thunder. His body buckled with pressure, riding the coming like the first smack of kisses all along his ass and up through his spine. 

Nothing prepared him for Blair in the morning, no girl he'd ever been with, not even Incacha. More than sex, his love allowed joy for the first time in Jim's life. 

After a few moments, Blair crawled up, his lips swollen and well-used. His lover kissed his cheek before settling down to a slippery snuggle. "Morning, Jim." 

Reaching down to pull up the sheet, Jim covered them before he answered, his voice still raspy. "I love you, Blair." He squeezed him more tightly to his chest, his vision suddenly blurred and misty. 

Lifting his head, Blair stared at him in concerned, but then smiled. "I love you, too." His voice softened as he leaned in to kiss his left nipple and then his right before settling back against him. His fingers teased a circle around Jim's heart. "I never knew it could be like this." 

"Me, neither." 

"Really?" 

"Really." He paused before he added, "It's not just about sex, Blair." 

"I know that. The sex is good though. I like it." Blair blushed and closed his eyes. "It's weird though." 

"What? The sex?" 

"No, the fact that I like you kissing my ass." 

Jim laughed out loud and hugged him tighter. "I'll kiss any part you want, Chief." 

"You're such a slut, man." 

"This from a man who just sucked me off like a pro?" 

Blair raised his head again, his face serious. "Really? I was good?" 

"The best ever." 

Suddenly smug, Blair smiled and slapped Jim's cheek lightly. "Practice, man. And a good teacher." 

Snatching Blair's hand, Jim kissed it, keeping his gaze locked with Blair's. "You've taught me a lot, too." 

"Yeah? Like what?" 

"Like love isn't the automatic bullet to the brain I thought it was." 

His expression softened as Blair studied his face, his blue eyes like winter's promise of spring. "I'm glad, Jim, but one of these days I hope you can trust me enough to tell me why you ever thought that." 

Stiffening slightly, Jim nodded. "Someday. I'm not really ready to talk about all that." 

"I know. But someday, right?" 

"Sure." Suddenly uneasy, Jim sat up. "Want some breakfast?" 

"Let's shower first." 

Jim sniffed and nodded, the scent of their love-making stronger in the cool air and floating up from the soiled sheets. "Yeah, good idea." 

Looking hopeful, Blair asked, "Together?" 

"Works for me." 

* * *

Pulling on his T-shirt, Jim walked to the door after the fourth knock. He opened the door to find his partner in a wheelchair staring up at him. "Tim? What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you were in the hospital until tomorrow." 

"I got tired of having my ass wiped by a stranger, so I'm here. Can I come in?" 

Surprised, Jim stepped back and motioned his friend through the door. "Where are Juli and Jack?" 

"Downstairs in the van. We're driving down to San Francisco in just a few minutes. There's not going to be any trial, so there's no reason to do the rehab here. Jack's got some friends Juli and I can stay with down there until we get our own place." 

Jim noted the strained voice, the anger. "A trial wouldn't serve any purpose, Tim. The boy's fucked up." 

"Yeah, I know. At least Jamison's done for. No fucking way can he do business now. That's some justice. I don't blame Brett, not really." Nervously, Tim looked around as he asked, "Where's the kid?" 

"He left for bagels. He'll be back in a minute." 

A pale face lifted, the shadows and bruising still blocking off most of the color. "It's just as well. I need you tell him to get off the fucking guilt trip. Every time he looks at me with those puppy dog eyes of his, I want to smack some sense into him. It wasn't his fault." 

"You saved his life, Tim. You might never walk again. He's going to feel guilty." 

"Fuck that." Banging a determined fist against the arm of the chair, Tim shook his head. "I'm going to walk again, Jim." 

"I know you are." 

"And when I do, I'm going to come back here and kick your sorry ass if you're still being a dumbfuck." 

Smiling, Jim touched his shoulder. "You can try." 

"I'll do more than try. With the settlement from Jamison's company, you can do what you want. Keep the business or sell it, I don't care. Just do something with your gifts, man." 

"Gifts?" 

Tim snorted and shook his head as he turned the chair back toward the door. "I'm not stupid, Jim. I know a man who can do things other people can't. I've seen it. Use it for good. That's all I'm asking." 

Stunned by his friend's insight about his sentinel abilities, his voice wavered. "Why didn't you say anything before?" 

"We're friends. I didn't need to. But now I'm leaving and Sandburg's just a kid. I know there's something special going on between you two that goes beyond just being a couple. I can feel it. I just want you to be careful, that's all." 

"I will be." 

Tilting his head as he touched the doorknob, Tim smiled. "Then again, it could be all this fucking medication. Damn drugs make me believe all kinds of crazy shit." 

"You were a crazy shit before this. I have a feeling that's why we're friends." 

Easy acceptance lifted the words. "That's true." 

Jim paused and then stepped closer to open the door. As Tim rolled out, he added, "Let me know if you need anything. I owe you." 

"You don't owe me anything, Jim. You saved my ass once and now we're even." 

Shaking his head, Jim argued, "Not even close. Without Blair, well, I wouldn't be here." 

Tim's eyes narrowed and then softened. "Yeah, man, I'm finally starting to get that." They traveled down the hall and Tim pushed the down button. "Take it easy. Tell the kid what I said." 

"I will. Take care." 

The elevator doors opened and Tim rolled on. Before the doors dinged shut, he added, "I hope it works out, man. I really do." 

"Thanks. It will." Jim didn't bother to add it had to. 

* * *

"Hey, Blair." 

Blair turned from the counter with his bag of goodies and walked toward the door as he stared at his ex-roommate. "Hey, Charlie. What are you doing here?" 

"I just thought we should talk." 

"Talk?" 

"Yeah. Talk. Could we go somewhere more private? Maybe get coffee?" 

Glancing around at the empty tables, Blair shrugged. "We're in a bagel shop, Charlie. We can get coffee here." 

Reluctantly, Charlie nodded. "Okay. You like cream, right?" 

"Yeah, with no sugar." 

While Charlie went to the front to get the drinks, Blair settled at a table near the window away from any other customers. As soon as his friend sat down and handed him the cup, he spoke with quiet concern. "You've got to stop this, man." 

"Stop what?" 

"Following me." 

Blushing, Charlie put his own cup down and avoided his eyes. "I can't help it." 

"You're obsessing. Now, I know what that's like, but it's not good for either of us. I'm with Jim." 

"But I love you." 

Blair paused, biting his lower lip, his heart heavy. "That's the first time you've admitted it." 

"Only to you. I admitted it to myself a long time ago. I was just too afraid to do anything about it. My dad's going to kill me when he finds out." 

"Finds out what, that you're gay?" 

"Yeah. Guys in my family play football and raise families. We don't want to fuck other guys. At least we're not supposed to." 

Blair leaned forward and shook his head. "You know that's bullshit, right? Being gay's about more than fucking other guys. It's about love just like loving a woman." 

"Yeah, I know that." Uneasy, Charlie met his gaze, his green eyes bloodshot and his face grim. "I'm just trying to explain why I fucked up like I did. I should've told you how I felt. Then you wouldn't be with Ellison and I wouldn't feel like I've been kicked in the fucking balls all the time." 

"You're wrong, man. I'd still be with Jim. I love you as a friend, but I was never in love with you." 

"But you could've been." 

His tone soft and gentle, Blair shook his head again. "No, I couldn't." 

Charlie didn't answer, but turned away, his head lowered as a single tear ran down his face. Finally, he swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "I'm royally fucked, Blair. I can't live like this." 

Alarmed, Blair tensed. "What are you saying?" 

"I'm saying, I can't stand all this shit. I'm going to drop out and leave town." 

"And do what?" 

"I can't go home, I know that. My dad would figure it out. You don't want me, so what else is there? I figure I'm good at construction. I can get a job somewhere." He rubbed his face with both hands as he struggled to keep the words even, but failed. "I hate school anyway. I only stayed around as long as I did because of you. Now there's not even that." 

"I'm sorry, man. I don't want you to leave. You need an education to get a decent job. Besides, you'll find someone else." 

"I don't want anyone else. Don't you fucking get that?" Charlie stood up, his face red, his eyes focused and intense. "I'd wish you luck with Ellison, but I'm a lousy liar." 

As he turned to walk away, Blair called out, "I'm really sorry." 

The words came out bitter and tight. "Not as sorry as I am." Slamming the door behind him, his friend stormed off, his face flushed with hurt and anger. Blair sat for a few more moments before he stood up and headed home to Jim, his lover and his true friend. 

* * *

"You want to talk about it?" 

Blair looked up from his bagel and shrugged. "I saw Charlie. He's leaving town. Must be the day for friends heading off to go to new places. First Tim, now Charlie." 

"What about school?" 

"He's quitting. I don't know what's going to happen to him, Jim. He's so afraid his dad's going to find out he's gay, he's running off to god knows where." 

Jim sat back, his arms crossed. "He finally admitted it, huh?" 

"Yeah, but so what? He's alone now." 

"That's not your fault." 

"I know." Blair sighed and stood up. Walking to the window, he looked out over the city, his voice suddenly hushed. "I just feel bad, man. Tim's in a wheelchair because of me, and Charlie, god, you should've seen him. He looked so lost." 

"You're wrong, Blair. Tim wasn't hurt because of you and Charlie's pain is his own." Moving to stand behind his lover, Jim slipped his arms around his waist as he spoke softly. "I know you feel bad. I understand that, but you're not the guilty party here. You have to know that." 

Relaxing back against Jim, Blair remained silent for a few extra moments. "I do know that intellectually. Emotionally though, I feel like shit. It just seems so unfair. Brett's going to be in the hospital for who knows how long because of what his dad did. Tim gets to suffer because he did you a favor and saved my ass. And Charlie, well, I'm still not sure what to feel about him. He was my friend, but I don't think I ever really knew him." 

"And me?" The words came out in a whisper. 

Puzzled, Blair turned around in his arms and looked up. "What about you?" 

His throat dry, Jim needed to hear the words. "How do you feel about me? I got you into all this. If you want to blame anybody, it should be me." 

Shaking his head, Blair reached up and stroked Jim's cheek lovingly. "You're a mess, man. It's not your fault, either." 

"I know that and I don't." 

"Yeah, I understand that feeling." Smiling, Blair took Jim's hand and led him to the sofa. As Jim settled down, Blair moved in to sit between his legs, the older man's right arm around his neck. Teasing the hair on his arm, Blair closed his eyes. "I love you, Jim." 

"God, I love you, too, Chief." Resting his chin on Blair's curls, Jim took a deep breath. "I think it's time I told you about Incacha." 

The young man in his arms relaxed with a smile and listened, Jim's faith a sacred covenant he freely savored. "You trust me like that?" 

"I love you like that." 

"Cool. So, Incacha was your guide, too, right?" 

"Not exactly. He was a shaman." 

"But you loved him and he helped with your senses?" 

"Yes, but you're my guide. My only guide." Jim kissed the top of his young lover's head as Blair snuggled in closer, the fit of his body perfect. Slowly, he told the story of running wild through the jungle, wounded and afraid, finally rescued by a Chopec shaman who loved him. The pain eased away as Blair cried with him, his gentle arms around him, protecting him from the past and presenting him with a future. 

*************The end 

* * *

End Fit 2 by Grey: Grey853@aol.com

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Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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